


Who Cares Who Wins, We're All Going To Hell

by Lynchy8



Series: Fun (and sad!) little drabbles [27]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cunnilingus, F/F, Locker Room Sex, PWP, cheerleading au, fem!Jolras, fem!Taire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 04:02:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3104855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynchy8/pseuds/Lynchy8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"“Did you like your surprise?” Grantaire was drawn out of her reverie as Enjolras’s voice cut through the stillness of the locker room. The other girl turned, standing up straight and smiling right at Grantaire; a twist of her lips that somehow managed to be sweet and filthy and full of promise and innocence all at once.</p>
<p><i>Like</i> it? Grantaire had nearly had a heart attack, right there in the gym."</p>
<p>Grantaire is an unlikely cheerleader but who cares when Enjolras is wearing a skirt and *not much else*...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Cares Who Wins, We're All Going To Hell

**Author's Note:**

> Please assume that both parties are over the age of consent (It isn't mentioned explicitly but in my head they're about 17)
> 
> This is entirely purple_embroidery's fault so please direct your hearty thanks to her for the delicious idea.
> 
> If anyone would like anything tagged please let me know.

Grantaire waited for silence in the locker room before emerging from the shower. She had dallied after the practise session deliberately so that she was last in the queue, before laboring over the washing of her curls, taking extra time with the conditioner so that she could delay her exit for as long as possible. 

When she finally emerged, only one other girl remained in the locker room. Enjolras was bent over her bag, apparently unconcerned as to whether or not she was alone, her wet hair pulled back into an untidy bun which managed to look effortlessly perfect, even in its current state. She was topless apart from her bra, powder blue in school team colours of course. But Grantaire wasn't concerned with that, right now. Her eye was drawn to the skirt the girl wore. Rather than change into joggers or something casual like jeans or leggings, Enjolras had chosen to put her cheerleading skirt back on.

That skirt; Grantaire was in agony over that skirt. In such a position, bent forward from the waist, the plaid fabric was hitched up, the hem brushing the delicate skin at the back of Enjolras’s thighs, hinting at the gentle curve of her arse. Grantaire wanted to press kisses to the insides of those thighs, perhaps sink her teeth into the buttery flesh whilst tickling her fingers ever higher until…

“Did you like your surprise?” Grantaire was drawn out of her reverie as Enjolras’s voice cut through the stillness of the locker room. The other girl turned, standing up straight and smiling right at Grantaire; a twist of her lips that somehow managed to be sweet and filthy and full of promise and innocence all at once.

_Like_ it? Grantaire had nearly had a heart attack, right there in the gym.

They had been practicing a new routine, one that involved a particular lift right at the end. It required Grantaire to clasp Enjolras _just so_. As Enjolras had jumped into the lift, Grantaire's hands had grabbed the other girl’s hips under the flutter of her ra-ra skirt. Grantaire had expected to feel the cotton of gym shorts, or perhaps pantie leg. What she had decidedly not been prepared for was the soft warmth of skin beneath her rough fingertips. Enjolras wasn't wearing anything beneath her skirt.

Grantaire hadn't expected any of this. She had only tried out for the cheerleading team because she needed a club to fulfill her credit requirements for the year. In the absence of a judo club or a boxing club or even a gymnastics club, she had been in serious danger of flunking right up until Bahorel told her they were recruiting for the cheerleading team.

Grantaire didn't think she was cheerleading material and told Bahorel so to her face. She wasn't blonde for a start; she didn't giggle and she wouldn't date a footballer if her graduation depended on it. Not even if they begged. Which they wouldn’t because she was Grantaire.

However, apparently the team were in dire need of someone with skills that Grantaire just so happened to be in possession of. While there were plenty of waifs for lifts and tumbling, there weren't so many "cornerstones" - girls with stamina and upper body strength; girls to do the heavy lifting and form the base of all those impressive pyramids.

So Grantaire had gone to tryouts, fully aware that her attempts at being perky were fooling no one. The three girls that formed the committee had been terrifying, putting Grantaire through her paces with cool gazes. However she must have done something right because the tall lanky one, Combeferre, had cornered her after their shared Science class and given Grantaire a practise timetable. That had been six weeks ago.

Three weeks ago Enjolras had pounced on her in the changing rooms.

To say it had been unexpected would have been putting it mildly; until about thirty seconds before their first kiss Grantaire had been certain Enjolras hated her, mostly because Grantaire’s first five minutes in the same room as Enjolras had been an unmitigated disaster. Apparently laughter during practice was generally frowned upon, especially during what Grantaire had subsequently dubbed the “Pep Talk” at the start; where either Combeferre, Enjolras or Courfeyrac would give a rousing speech about how they had an important season coming up, with some challenging competitions and so it was absolutely essential that they go out there, do their best and show everyone exactly what they were made of. 

At Grantaire’s involuntary snort of contempt, Enjolras had focused her ice-cold gaze upon the new girl before enquiring in a deadly tone whether Grantaire had anything to add. The only thing Grantaire had been able to think of was how much she wanted to make those hard eyes flutter by biting down on Enjolras’s lower lip. Obviously not willing to impart that particular piece of information, Grantaire settled for shrugging her shoulders and waiting for Enjolras to look away, something that didn’t happen for an uncomfortably long time.

The first time Grantaire had lifted Enjolras she knew she was in trouble. Enjolras was slight, but tall and so was usually paired with Combeferre. Unfortunately, towards the end of Grantaire’s second week, Combeferre twisted her knee during lacrosse practice. It was a nasty injury, one that would put her out of everything for the rest of the season. Enjolras had eyed Grantaire with suspicion as she offered her services, as though trying to work out if Grantaire’s intentions were genuine.

“If you drop me…” she began, the first words she had actually spoken directly to Grantaire. Grantaire had made solemn promises that she had no intention of dropping Enjolras, or even pretending to drop her like she sometimes did with Jehan. For one thing, Jehan had a sense of humour, her peels of laughter ringing through the gym as Grantaire swung her in a feint. For another, Jehan trusted her. Grantaire wasn’t sure she trusted herself at this point, with Enjolras advancing upon her looking so severe. She was determined that just for once she was not going to screw this up.

It had gone well. Obviously it had gone well because it resulted in Enjolras grabbing Grantaire after practice the following week and kissing her fiercely against the lockers. Grantaire was a little fuzzy on the finer points of the events leading up to that monumental moment but then it wasn’t every day that a blonde goddess descended from heaven to quite literally fall upon your neck (and Grantaire carried the hickey to prove it, hidden beneath the collar of her training sweater).

She wasn’t quite sure what it was, this delicate mystical tryst between them, but she wasn’t about to ask questions, not with Enjolras looking at her the way she was right now. The girl lowered her eyes in a manner one might almost call demure if it wasn’t for the smirk on her face. Enjolras sat down on the bench, moving gracefully, before spreading her legs in obvious invitation.

Grantaire, still wrapped in her towel, found her feet moving before her brain really caught up, and before she knew it she was standing between Enjolras’s thighs, bending down to claim a kiss. Enjolras kissed like she had a point to prove and she wasn’t about to back down any time soon. Grantaire was a willing victim, all too happy to let Enjolras do as she pleased.

When she dropped to her knees, she went eagerly, her hands resting on Enjolras’s thighs, looking up for permission. Enjolras’s expression was warm and open, lips kissed red and smile somewhat softened. It was a gift and a privilege to see Enjolras like this, her fingers cupping Grantaire’s jaw, thumb rubbing gently at her chapped lips. Permission granted, Grantaire dropped her head, taking a moment to press an indulgent kiss to the sensitive skin on the inside of Enjolras’s right thigh just above the knee, then another an inch further up. Shaking fingers pushed up the plaid skirt, further and further back with each brush of Grantaire’s lips.

Above her, Enjolras let out a soft sigh. Grantaire felt her lean back and she opened her eyes just in time to see Enjolras tip back her head, eyelashes fluttering. It was a beautiful sight and Grantaire hadn’t even started yet.

This wasn’t the first time she had found herself in such a position; indeed, Enjolras seemed to have a particular kink for locker room sex. The first time had been hurried, the pair of them rutting against the lockers, Enjolras’s hands shoved down Grantaire’s joggers, rubbing against her clit to bring her off as quickly as possible while Grantaire attempted to return the favour. 

Then Enjolras had managed to get them alone in the shower room, fingering her against the cold tiles before Grantaire used her fingers and her tongue to reduce Enjolras to a shaking whimpering mess.

Right now, all she wanted to do was bury her face between those beautifully spread thighs. So she did, and the sound Enjolras made was entirely worth it. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the taste and scent of this gorgeous girl encompassing her. Enjolras raised one long, perfect leg to rest on Grantaire’s shoulder, shifting her hips to improve the angle. Grantaire teased at first, with small kitten licks to Enjolras’s labia, before pressing deeper, letting her tongue explore freely. She groaned happily as Enjolras’s hand tightened in her hair.

“Sweet mother, your mouth is so fucking talented, babe,” she praised, voice breathless. Spurred on by the praise, Grantaire suckled her clit, tightening her grip on Enjolras’s thighs, before nosing deeper, fucking her tongue in and out of Enjolras’s slit.

Grantaire knew what she was doing. Flattening her tongue, she indulged in some slow, wide strokes to explore Enjolras, her lips, labia, and clit. Using her strength to lift Enjolras’s thighs, she started low at the perineum, swirling up to her clit, pausing to suckle the sensitive nub before sweeping back down. 

Enjolras was whining obscenely, breathing harshly and making small encouraging movements with her hips. Fingers flexed in Grantaire’s hair, holding her in place, an open invitation to continue. Not that Grantaire was about to stop; instead, she added two fingers, thrusting inside Enjolras and causing the girl to keen loudly.

Hit with sudden inspiration, Grantaire retracted her fingers, earning a disgruntled moan from Enjolras. Taking a moment to place her feet correctly so that her weight was balanced and well distributed, Grantaire wrapped her arms round Enjolras’s thighs before lifting her up off the bench. Enjolras let out a surprised sound at finding herself suddenly airborne, lifting her legs instinctively to wrap around Grantaire’s neck, grateful for the hold she had on the girl’s hair, as well as her own excellent sense of balance and core muscle control.

The pair of them spun round, Enjolras balanced on Grantaire’s shoulders, until her back came into contact with the locker room wall. She groaned loudly as Grantaire returned to her task, with a new finesse, drawing her tongue over Enjolras with renewed vigor. She lost herself between Enjolras’s thighs, tracing an R with her tongue, a trick she had learnt some time ago as being particularly effective when giving oral, before sucking once more at Enjolras’s clit.

Enjolras was moaning unabashedly now, getting ever closer to her orgasm. She reached between her legs to touch herself as Grantaire continued her efforts, alternating between lapping and sucking. There was a sharp tang of musk in the air as Enjolras felt her orgasm begin to brew, every muscle in her body clenching tightly until she thought she might burst from being so fucking close but not quite close enough. She was begging, now; words streaming from her in between gasps and moans, desperate to be pushed off the precipice. 

With a final oath, she threw back her head, shaking violently as she came apart in the best possible way. Grantaire groaned, lifting and then lowering, returning Enjolras to earth.

It took more than a moment for Enjolras to catch her breath, still trembling all over, chilled to the bone from coming hard. She pulled Grantaire to her fiercely, tasting herself on Grantaire’s tongue. She let her kiss translate all that she was feeling, not wanting to break the moment with anything so insufficient as words. 

Grantaire leant into Enjolras’s gentle touch, breathing hard as she attempted to steady her heartbeat. For a glorious moment, her sweet goddess had shaken apart above her at the mercy of Grantaire’s tongue. Watching the girl fly, she had wondered if there could be anything sweeter to life than this.

“Come home with me,” Enjolras murmured against Grantaire’s dry lips. “Come back to mine. I want you to teach me that trick with your tongue.”

**Author's Note:**

> When I was writing this, I had Thora Birch in _American Beauty_ heavily influencing my Grantaire, whilst Enjolras was definitely channeling Natalie Dormer. 
> 
> Flowers and Wine to Sarah for being my beta and for suggesting the title. Otherwise it would have been called "With a Jubilant Shout" (the implication being that we will come, one and all) so aren't you glad she's around?


End file.
